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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28550013">whatever the hell you want</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormforalways/pseuds/bookwormforalways'>bookwormforalways</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter &amp; teasing, Celebrity AU, F/M, meet awkward, minor Fox (the 100), minor Marcus Kane - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:54:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28550013</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormforalways/pseuds/bookwormforalways</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Clarke gets soaked in the rain on her way to work, she finds an unused t-shirt in her design company’s storage room to wear for the day. The only problem is that with the large design of actor Bellamy Blake on the front, Clarke’s outfit is not exactly work appropriate - especially for an impromptu meeting with a brand new client who happens to have a very familiar face.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>129</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bellarke January Joy 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>whatever the hell you want</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Bellarke January Joy 2021! </p>
<p>Well this fic turned out far more cheeky &amp; cheesy than I had expected - but I ran with it because the idea was funny and I missed writing banter after spending so much time on angsty fics. So do with that what you will, and I hope you enjoy this utter nonsense.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was not even nine o’clock in the morning and Clarke Griffin was already having a terrible day. </p>
<p>Her alarm had failed to go off on time that morning, which meant she overslept. That left her no time to shower, so dry shampoo had to suffice, and no time to make breakfast. She changed into her work clothes as quickly as possible, grabbed a protein bar and raced out the door, almost forgetting her cell phone in the process. </p>
<p>And of course, it was raining. With no time to double back to her apartment for an umbrella, Clarke pulled up the hood on her jacket and dodged puddles on the sidewalk as she navigated to the subway entrance. If she caught the train on time, she might just have a few minutes to spare to grab a coffee at the cart outside her office building. </p>
<p>Clarke had been working for Polis Designs for a little over four months now. She knew she was lucky to be hired as a graphic designer fresh out of art school by such a well reputable firm. The last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize her good standing by showing up late, especially after the incident with a client last week. </p>
<p>By the time she arrived at the office building, Clarke was well and truly soaked from the rain. Maybe if she’d woken up on time today, she might have had time to check the weather forecast. Maybe then she could have taken her umbrella to work, or at least worn a waterproof jacket. </p>
<p>Stepping off the elevator, Clarke pushed through the heavy glass doors to the Polis Design floor. She was eager to find her desk and hang up her wet coat. </p>
<p>“You’re late,” Fox said in a sing-song voice from the reception desk, emery board in hand as she filed her already perfectly manicured nails. </p>
<p>Rolling her eyes, Clarke muttered, “Hi to you, too,” and continued walking toward her work station, not really in the mood to make conversation. Luckily she didn’t have any meetings scheduled today. She planned to spend the entire day making a dent on the projects in her roster. Which was certainly a good thing considering she was soaked to the bone. </p>
<p>“Kane’s looking for you, by the way,” Fox added, filing another nail, as she casually mentioned the name of their boss. “Just thought you’d want to know.”</p>
<p>Clarke stopped in her tracks and spun back to the reception desk. Out of curiosity, she asked, “What for? I didn’t think there was anything on the calendar?”</p>
<p>“He didn’t say. Let me check again though,” Fox answered, putting aside her nail file to check the computer. Her nails clicked on the keyboard as she pulled up the office calendar. “Nothing here, but you might want to stop by his office right away.”</p>
<p>Clarke nodded, moving to tuck her hair behind her ear, and wincing when she realized how damp it was, dripping onto her shoulders. She unzipped her wet jacket, hoping additional airflow would help her dry off faster. </p>
<p>“Um, I don’t want to be rude,” Fox added, pointing to Clarke’s shirt. “But you might want to change first.”</p>
<p>Glancing down, Clarke realized that the rain had soaked through her jacket to her blouse - her <em> white </em> blouse, which was now wet and completely see-through. </p>
<p>Clarke swore and zipped her jacket back up to hide her shirt and the view of her bra which she had already flashed in Fox’s direction. “We don’t happen to have a lost and found around here, do we?”</p>
<p>Fox shook her head, “No.” But then the dark-haired girl smiled mischievously, “But we do have old merchandise in one of the storage closets. Ooh! Come with me!”</p>
<p>The receptionist’s heels clacked on the floor as she speed walked to a nearby supply closet, and Clarke followed closely. Fox reached up for one of the cardboard boxes on a shelf at the very top, and began to explain. “Kane had me organize this closet when I first started here. These boxes are full of old merch from campaigns we’ve designed or collaborated with. Items that didn’t sell, or given back to us as freebies.”</p>
<p>A cloud of dust rose from the top of the box labelled ‘T-SHIRTS’ in neat sharpie as Fox dropped it on the floor. “I was supposed to donate these, but I, uh, forgot.”</p>
<p>Clarke appreciated Fox’s attempt at honesty, but even though they hadn’t known each other for a long time, Clarke knew it was most likely laziness that kept the old boxes here, not forgetfulness. </p>
<p>“I won’t tell,” Clarke promised, “But let’s hope there’s something wearable in there.”</p>
<p>They dug around in the box for a moment, pushing aside anything in a neon colour or bearing an inappropriately suggestive slogan. </p>
<p>“What about this?” Fox asked, holding up a simple black t-shirt. She flipped it around to show Clarke, revealing the graphic on the front. It was from an old campaign done for the sci-fi show Space Walkers, with the lead actor’s face printed on the front. </p>
<p>“Fox, I can’t wear a shirt with Bellamy Blake’s face on it to work all day. There has to be something from like, an insurance company? Or a bank?” Clarke winced, digging further into the box for another option. The search was futile as she only unearthed neon orange shirts and more of the exact same Space Walkers shirt in different sizes.</p>
<p>“Why not? He’s hot,” Fox argued back. “It’s your best choice. Unless you want one of these…” Fox pulled out the other choices in the varying neon hues. </p>
<p>Dragging a hand through her damp hair, Clarke groaned. She weighed the options in her head, wondering if it was worse to leave work now pretending to be sick, or to resign herself to wearing that shirt in front of her boss. It wasn’t as if the show had been terrible, in fact, Clarke used to watch it every week with her father before he passed. And she would never admit it out loud, but she may have harboured a small crush for the lead character, Alex, played by Bellamy Blake. And as much as she didn’t want to advertise her old crush around the office, Clarke didn’t want to get fired either. </p>
<p>“Fine, I’ll take the Blake shirt then,” Clarke sighed, taking the shirt from Fox’s outstretched hand. “Let’s just hope my blouse dries quickly.”</p>
<p>After thanking Fox, Clarke ducked into the bathroom to change. To be fair, it wasn’t a terrible shirt, but if she had been in charge of the design, it would have looked far different. </p>
<p>Racing over to her work station, Clarke hung up her jacket and blouse, sending up prayers to the universe that they would dry quickly. But before Clarke could boot up her computer, her boss called her name. </p>
<p>“Clarke! There you are.” Marcus Kane stood in the hallway and beckoned her to join him in the neighbouring conference room. “Can you come in here for a few minutes, I have a client I’d like you to meet with quickly.”</p>
<p>Her eyes rose high in alarm. She was so not prepared or dressed appropriately for a business meeting right now, let alone meeting a new client. </p>
<p>“Is this really the best time?” Clarke tried to ask, swivelling around in her chair and pointing to her shirt with a grimace.</p>
<p>Kane’s brows furrowed in an odd mix of confusion and amusement. “It’s only Thursday, right? Casual Friday isn’t until tomorrow?”</p>
<p>“I know that,” Clarke said, an edge of frustration in her voice. She quickly explained, “But I got caught in the rain on my way in, and my dress shirt was completely soaked. Fox found this for me in the storage closet to wear while mine dries.” </p>
<p>“Well, there’s nothing we can do about that now is there,” Kane replied with a small shrug, and gestured for Clarke to follow him to the meeting room. </p>
<p>“But my-” she tried to argue, rising out of her seat.</p>
<p>“Clarke,” Kane cut her off. “Our client’s time is quite valuable, so please come with me. Now.”</p>
<p>With a sigh, Clarke picked up her tablet, notebook and pen, bracing herself for the last minute client meeting. Hopefully she would be able to fly under the radar, and sit unnoticed in the room. Often important clients, the ones with inflated egos, only spoke directly to Kane, leaving Clarke to quietly observe and take her notes. Crossing her fingers, Clarke hoped this would be the case. </p>
<p>However, luck was not on her side today. </p>
<p>Stepping into the conference room, Clarke’s heart almost stopped beating as she recognized the person sitting there across the table. The new client. </p>
<p>“Holy crap, you’re Bellamy Blake.” The words escaped Clarke’s mouth before she could clamp her hand over her mouth in surprise. </p>
<p>His jaw dropped, her abruptness catching him off guard for a millisecond before he retorted, “Why are you wearing my face on your shirt?”</p>
<p>“What, this old thing?” Clarke replied on instinct, forcing a laugh, and desperately hoping she wasn’t blushing bright red as she took a seat. </p>
<p>Across the table, Bellamy’s eyes narrowed with curiosity and he laced his fingers together. </p>
<p>“Bellamy, this is Clarke, the graphic designer I was telling you about,” Kane introduced. “And Clarke, clearly you recognize Bellamy. His mother is an old friend of mine, and we’ve reconnected to collaborate on Bellamy’s new project.”</p>
<p>Clarke nodded. “Pleasure,” she said, in lieu of a handshake.</p>
<p>“It’s always nice to meet a fan,” Bellamy fired back quickly, with a dangerous smirk. It was the same smirk that had every female love interest swoon on his show - and some of the male characters too. </p>
<p>Clarke opened her mouth to explain that wasn’t the case, but Kane held up a hand, and she snapped her mouth shut.  </p>
<p>“As I’ve mentioned, Clarke,” Kane explained, intoning his words in her direction, “Bellamy is strapped for time, so I’d like you to meet with us now. I know your schedule is clear for the rest of the day, so I hope this won’t be too inconvenient.”</p>
<p>“Not at all,” Clarke replied sweetly, opening her notebook to a fresh page. “What’s the project?”</p>
<p>Kane spoke quickly, giving a brief overview of the project they were beginning. After the success of Space Walkers, Bellamy planned to use his popular name to create a campaign in support of at-risk youth in his hometown, here in Arkadia. </p>
<p>Clarke snuck a glance up from her notes at Bellamy, sitting across the table. This was the last thing she expected him to be doing. </p>
<p>Bellamy looked up and caught her eye, sharing a soft smile, a change from the defensive smirk moments ago. Realizing she had been caught staring, Clarke ducked her gaze back down to her tablet, and kept her focus there. Her face felt heated and she hoped she wasn’t blushing again. She had to keep her attention on the work, on the project - and not on the fact that the face of her fictional crush was sitting across the table from her, and smiling in a way that set her veins ablaze. So she continued listening to Kane’s explanation of the project. </p>
<p>Clarke soon learned that Bellamy’s sister and brother-in-law ran an after school program, working with teenagers to teach them discipline and responsibility through martial arts. To raise money for this program, and to start similar initiatives throughout the state, Bellamy planned to create and sell t-shirts. While he didn’t have an exact design in mind, he thought he might feature the character and a prominent tagline from his show. Which of course, required Clarke’s skills in graphic design. Apparently Kane had spoken highly of Clarke’s talents and had shown off her portfolio, which had convinced Bellamy to hire Polis Designs for the project. </p>
<p>As Clarke tapped away on her tablet, taking her notes, she couldn’t help but grow excited for this project. She’d long admired Bellamy Blake for his acting talents, but his excitement and heart for this project made him seem more human in her eyes. </p>
<p>“Did you have any specific design ideas in mind?” Clarke asked Bellamy, once there was a brief pause in Kane’s explanation. </p>
<p>He shrugged, sending a charming smirk in her direction. Long gone was the soft smile. “Isn’t that what I hired you for?”</p>
<p>Laying her palms flat on the table, Clarke took a deep breath. She knew Kane would not appreciate her temper flaring, especially after the last incident, but Bellamy Blake seemed to know how to push her buttons. </p>
<p>“What I meant was,” Clarke tried again, speaking slowly to keep herself from overreacting. “You mentioned including a picture of your character from the show, Alex, right? Do you want a still from the show, as in your face, or an artistic rendering or cartoon of the character? Was there a certain scene or favourite shot you wanted to include?”</p>
<p>Bellamy wore an expression of surprise and frustration at her questions, but Clarke didn’t give him any space to interrupt. Leaning forward, Clarke continued, “And the tagline - will it be a quote from your character or the show in general? And we’ll need to look into licensing it with the show and network too, to avoid any legal issues with copyrights, and-”</p>
<p>“Clarke,” Kane interrupted finally, holding up his palm. “You’ve made your point.”</p>
<p>Staying silent, Clarke nodded to acknowledge her boss and leaned back in her chair. Crossing her arms, she waited for either man to speak next. </p>
<p>After a moment of awkward silence, Bellamy exhaled a laugh, turning to Kane. “And you thought we’d get along,” he joked, gesturing in Clarke’s direction. </p>
<p>Marcus held his hands up innocently. </p>
<p>“Look, if you don’t want me to work on this project, that’s fine with me,” Clarke jumped back into the conversation. “I’m sure Marcus would be happy to bring in one of the other, more-experienced, designers here at Polis.” </p>
<p>She was more than ready for Bellamy to accept her defeat, and more than ready to retreat back to her quiet work station for the rest of the day. </p>
<p>“No,” Bellamy said quickly, placing his hands flat on the table. “I mean, Marcus recommended you, said you’re the best. And this campaign deserves the best.”</p>
<p>Clarke glanced up at him, and her stomach flipped at the sincerity in his deep brown eyes - another stark difference to previous sass. </p>
<p>“Fine,” she said, rolling her shoulders and picking up her pen again, “Then let’s get to work.”</p>
<p>At that moment, a knock sounded on the conference room door. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Fox said sweetly, “But Diyoza’s on the line for you, Mr. Kane.”</p>
<p>“I’ll be right there,” Marcus said to the receptionist. He rapped his knuckles on the table quickly, tidying up his files. “I have to take this call, but I’ll be back soon.” He stood to leave.</p>
<p>“Try not to kill each other in my absence.” And then Kane paused by the door and nodded back at Clarke, “And Clarke? Please don’t hit any more clients.”</p>
<p>“It was one time,” Clarke muttered under her breath, but Kane was already out the door and down the hall. </p>
<p>But Marcus’ comment did not go unnoticed. Across the table, Bellamy raised a curious eyebrow. “Surely he meant ‘<em>hitting on clients </em>’ and not actual physical violence, right?”</p>
<p>Tapping her pen on her notebook, Clarke took a calming breath. “You’d be surprised, but no. Let’s just say McCreary’s eyes were not the only part of him wandering over me that day.”</p>
<p>Bellamy swore quietly under his breath, and then looked up. The mischievous twinkle had returned to his eyes. “Well, normally I steer clear of crazy fangirls, but you’re welcome to hit <em> on </em> me as much as you’d like.”</p>
<p>“I’m <em> not </em> a fangirl!” Clarke retorted sharply. </p>
<p>“Says the designer wearing a Space Walkers shirt with my face on it,” he deadpanned.</p>
<p>Clarke groaned, “Whatever, I didn’t even like your stupid show anyway.” There was something about Bellamy Blake that brought out her immature and childish side, which had her blurting out retorts that weren’t even truthful.</p>
<p>“If you say so,” Bellamy sighed. Resting his elbows on the table, he caught her eye again. Bellamy seemed sincere again, which was totally confusing Clarke as he seemed to flip between smarmy celebrity and compassionate philanthropist in the blink of an eye. </p>
<p>“You know, this project is really important to me,” he said. “I was kind of hoping I could trust you to help, but if you don’t like me, or my work, maybe I should collaborate with someone else, like you mentioned.”</p>
<p>Instantly regretting her previous comment, Clarke shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Let’s just get back to the project, brainstorm a few ideas, and if we don’t have anything before Kane comes back, I can bow out.” </p>
<p>“Okay,” Bellamy agreed. After a brief pause, he added, “About what you said before, about the design. I think it should be a shot from the show.”</p>
<p>“So something with your face on it then,” Clarke repeated, making a note on her page. She sat back and paused, “Are you sure putting your face on a shirt makes it marketable? No offense, but I mean, will people actually buy it?”</p>
<p>“Umm, harsh,” Bellamy reacted. But then grinned and pointed back at Clarke. “But I don’t need to prove it will sell. You’re clearly proving my point.”</p>
<p>Glancing down, Clarke rolled her eyes as she remembered what exactly she was wearing. She had forgotten for a moment, lost in the back and forth conversation.</p>
<p>“No, actually I’m proving mine,” Clarke responded, tucking her hair behind her ear. “This was a freebie shirt, one that I snagged from the supply closet because I got soaked in the rain this morning. As in, it didn’t sell, so they had to give them away free. And even then, there weren’t many takers.”</p>
<p>“You really know how to spare a guy’s feelings, don’t you,” Bellamy winced, rubbing his jaw. He sighed. “Okay, so let’s pretend you’re right-”</p>
<p>“I am right,” Clarke interrupted.</p>
<p>Bellamy glared in her direction, and repeated himself, “<em> If </em> you’re right, then how do we make it better? It’s one thing for my ego to take a hit if the shirts don’t sell, but this campaign is really important to me. My sister needs the money to help these kids.”</p>
<p>Taken aback at Bellamy’s change in tone, the sincerity surprising her once again, Clarke took a moment to think. Tapping her notebook with her pen, she tried to focus - because Bellamy was right. It didn’t matter what Clarke’s personal opinions were of Bellamy, albeit he was still very attractive and could hold his own against her teasing - the purpose was to raise money for kids who needed help. For that reason alone, Clarke swallowed all her witty comebacks and taunts. </p>
<p>“Okay. Here’s the plan,” Clarke began, beginning to sketch out her idea as she spoke. “Let’s use the shot from season three, you know, that moment where everyone thought Alex was dead, but he survived and saved the day? Fans love that moment, it was all over tumblr and fan twitter back when it aired. But we’ll keep the lines faded, and give it a real vintage, screen-printed look. And add your tagline overtop, ‘<em> whatever the hell you want’ </em>. Then, once you announce the campaign, have your co-stars amp it up on social media, maybe do a giveaway on twitter, and you should have a winner.”</p>
<p>Clarke capped her pen, and spun her notebook around, pushing it across the table to show Bellamy. </p>
<p>He picked up the notebook, observing her sketch. Clarke couldn’t tell if Bellamy liked the idea, his face carefully free of emotion, leaving her wondering what was going on inside of his head. </p>
<p>“Sooooo?” she asked, curiously. “What do you think? Still want a different designer?”</p>
<p>Bellamy put the notebook down, and he smirked. “So you were a fan of Space Walkers, I knew it!”</p>
<p>Leaning back against the chair, Clarke glanced up to the ceiling. “Okay, fine, I loved it, back in the day.”</p>
<p>“Back in the day? The final season aired last year,” Bellamy quipped, his gaze focused on her sketch again. “Also it’s ‘whatever the hell <em> we </em> want’ not ‘ <em> you’ </em>. But close enough.”</p>
<p>Clarke groaned. “You’re insufferable.”</p>
<p>“So I’ve been told,” he replied without hesitation. </p>
<p>“Bellamy, do you like the idea? Yes or no?” she huffed out, staring him down as she crossed her arms over her chest.</p>
<p>He glanced back up at her, and burst out laughing, clapping his hands together. </p>
<p>“What is wrong with you?” Clarke shouted in frustration. </p>
<p>“Sorry! I’m sorry,” Bellamy began, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to calm down. “It’s just impossible for you to look mad when all I can see is my own damn face glaring at me from your chest.”</p>
<p>Clarke felt heated, and her face flushed red, knowing Bellamy had been staring at her chest, and upset that he wasn’t taking her seriously. </p>
<p>“But seriously, Clarke, this is amazing,” he said, picking up the notebook again. “It’s perfect.”</p>
<p>“You think so?” Clarke asked, looking for confirmation that he truly liked the idea, and that he wasn’t simply saying it because he had embarrassed her. </p>
<p>“Yes. Honestly, it’s better than anything I could ever think of, which is why I hired you, I guess,” he rambled. </p>
<p>The sound of the conference door room opening caught both of their attention, looking up as Kane returned to his seat. </p>
<p>He wore a wary expression, and glanced curiously between Clarke and Bellamy. “Everything okay here? I heard yelling?”</p>
<p>Clarke opened her mouth to explain everything to her boss, but Bellamy beat her to the punch. </p>
<p>“You were right, Marcus, she’s great,” Bellamy said. “I think Clarke and I are going to get along just fine,” he added, with a wink in Clarke’s direction.  </p>
<p>“Are you sure?” Kane asked, glancing in Clarke’s direction, seeking her confirmation. </p>
<p>With a grin, Clarke nodded, “You bet. Whatever the hell he wants, right?”</p>
<p>Bellamy’s instant laughter filled the room, and Kane looked confused for a moment, glancing between Clarke and Bellamy once more before composing himself. “Right, then let’s get started.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And while Clarke’s day had started out rough, she left the office smiling. Somehow Clarke’s luck had turned around and it wasn’t so bad after all - not only did she have a new t-shirt with Bellamy Blake’s face on it, she had his number saved in her phone and plans to meet for coffee the next day.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading! 💜</p>
<p>you can find me on <a href="https://bookwormforalways.tumblr.com/post/639660311684792320/whatever-the-hell-you-want-written-for-day-7">tumblr!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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